Cylinder

The cool grass received me.  My hard, naked form exposed under the evening sky, shadow and light alternating on me as clouds passed the setting sun.  My companion gave a slight adjustment so my projection was better aligned with gravity -- both sign post and catalyst for aspiring aeronauts.  The demoness lounged nearby, feigning disinterest in events she'd orchestrated so carefully.  A quick test of wind against wetted finger, a sly glance at the clouds to check for streams and eddies at higher altitudes, gave hints of her interests and her intentions.

Gentle hands grasped my taut, rubbery nozzle, coating me with lubricant.  A beautiful face, rapt in the moment, grinned down at me, giggling.  “I can’t wait to feel the helium!” babbled the airheaded fool, dumbstruck with this unearthly gift, buzzing with the transformation she was about to undergo.  Her rising excitement made her oblivious to the demon’s honest, literal, and wholeheartedly mischievous nature.   I once wished, equally foolishly, that I had the power to inflate women with helium, and the same disingenuous honesty would see this woman experience her fantasy to the very letter.  Still, I was being fondled intimately by a woman who was about to become a buoyantly inflated parody of herself while bouncing atop my erection, so I could hardly complain.

Satisfied with her handiwork, the new victim disrobed, straddled, and eased her pelvis downward.  I lay motionless, a sentient tank of helium with a suggestively shaped nozzle, enjoying the view as she willingly let me penetrate her fate.  A hand grasped my valve.  Confident fingers applied torque, lacking full realization of the consequences.  I responded, blowing enchanted gases up my metallic ducts, past her entrance, and into her hips.  The magic went to work.  Hands cupped, then supported, then tried to hold down breasts as their curvature increased, racing toward buoyancy.  My cylindrical form was engulfed in ballooning buttocks and legs, and distending folds within folds tightened around my whistling extremity.  Thighs, rubbery and rippling in waves as the gas eddied within, faded to transparency.

The demoness approached the distending form, clearly more interested now that things were underway.  I knew the approximate script, having written it for the fiend, but could only guess at the sequence of taunts this time.  A poke here, a prod there, accompanied by an exaggerated sigh.  “Limp tits.  Floppy butt.  You’re losing more than you gain just from diffusion.  I hope you don’t miss your flight, my dear.  No refunds!”  A hand, now distended and hollow, but still able to express will, grasped my valve and gave another twist, the challenge accepted.

The victim’s arousal was obvious beyond the suggestive, gaseous perking of nipples and engorged nethers, as she began to grind against my nozzle, working the length without so much as a squeak of gas escaping the tightness between us.  Who knows what this woman had wanted, or how her antagonist tricked her into taking her adventure outside - the machinations of the hunter and her prey were irrelevant.  The demoness gave every one of her victims exactly what they craved.  Exactly.  Whether they thought they knew it or not.  This one was liking it plenty, and I was enjoying watching curves upon curves, billowing above me, transparent and shining in the last light of the day.  

Her distended form began to sway, buffeted by the weak zephyrs at ground level.  A stronger gust sent her swinging like an inverted pendulum, causing her to slip upward on my nozzle.  The bouncing was clearly becoming more about staying down than about lifting herself up, and her growing excitement wasn’t making the task easy.  Struggling to pull my nozzle back into her tightly inflated hips, she forced her buoyant arms down, hands frantically grasping, trying to turn the valve in reverse.  The mechanical resistance was too much for air-filled fingers.  She was unable to get a grip.  Only one thing held her down now, but helium was rapidly flowing out of its tip, filling her up from the inside.  Her buoyancy rapidly mounted, threatening to overcome the friction.

Her struggles to hold her arms down, to grasp with hopeless fingers, finally gave way to the lift.  Tired from the effort, they rebounded into a spread eagle, as though invisible ropes had bound her wrists and pulled them up and apart.  She was experiencing the beginnings of helium bondage, I realized.  A kinky one, submissive to the core: who knows how often her subconscious had dreamt up a twisted self-inflation fantasy, only to have her wake in the middle of the night, shining with perspiration, dripping with excitement, unable to get back to sleep until she mentally blew herself all the way up.

Her legs were stronger, but soon they were also affected by the pressure filling her body.  Her knees, until now bent to wrap her legs around me, started to straighten, letting her crotch slip upward on my nozzle. Growing lift was placing her in greater danger of departure.  As her legs’ grip ebbed, I felt her compensate by clenching around my girth.  Clearly, her pelvic floor muscles were unaffected by her transformation to latex and helium.  The more she inflated, the tighter she squeezed me but this, too, was a losing battle.  Involuntary twitches and spasms, intensified by her frantic efforts, saw her slip upward in a series of jerks.  She attempted a bounce, to force herself back down my length and reassert her internal grasp, but she found herself teetering on the brink of release.  She held onto my rubbery glans, straining to maintain a hold, not daring to move, all the while blowing bigger, growing lighter, having to squeeze tighter.

Her inflation continued, legs threatening to join her arms in their immobile starfish sprawl.  No way could she maintain her grip if... *FWOOMP!* her legs straightened, and the force of their final unfolding pushed her upward and lifted her crotch clear of my erection, giving her buoyancy a bouncy start in lofting her upward.  Her ascent was short lived, arrested by a firm hand grasping her ankle, talons pressing dangerously into the inflated flesh.

The demoness purred, playing out some of my carefully scripted floating fantasy dialogue.  “Why are you in such a hurry?”  She pulled her blimp-toy downward and pressed a pointedly sharp claw into a weather balloon breast to test her tautness.  “There’s still plenty of give left in you.  You could easily blow up twice as big before you were in any danger... danger of...” she smirked evilly, letting the thought sink in.

“P... P... Pop...” sputtered the victim through overblown lips.

“Popping,” finished the demoness, fulfiller of filling dreams.

The demoness reached down with some difficulty due to her buoyant charge, and hauled me upright by my hissing nozzle.  “But I don’t want you to pop just yet, my dear.  We need to make sure you have the most profoundly fulfilling experience before all this naughty, expanding helium makes you explode.”  Her free hand turned my valve off, disappeared under her cape, and returned to view with a tiny cork pinched between finger and thumb, held aloft for effect.  I couldn’t fathom its purpose, and, most likely, neither could her victim.

“I wonder, is a nozzle still a nozzle if you plug it up?  Is the difference between a hose and a balloon just a matter of one having an exit?”  This development was outside the realm of my scripting and I didn’t see where she was taking the situation.  With a flourish, the cork was brought to the tip of my nozzle and pushed, then jammed, firmly into my gas deferens.  I could suddenly see where she, and I, were going.

Grasping her femme-balloon by both ankles, the demoness maneuvered her wriggling prey backwards, one thigh on either side of me.  My upper half was engulfed in ballooned buttocks and thighs, jiggling astride me until my hollow prong was once more snug in the blimp woman’s tight crotch.  A taloned hand grasped my valve and gave a vigorous twist.  Again, I felt the sensation of gas being released from my body, but this time it could not find a proper exit.  My penis began to expand, slowly, its thick, rubber skin not yielding to the gas quite as readily as that of the blimped woman.

After waiting a few moments to ensure the process of inflation was well underway, the demoness released her grip.  My balloon lover’s voluptuous curves struggled for the sky, nipples pointing straight upward, but my plugged phallus anchored her more firmly with each passing second, swelling within her overblown form.  She writhed and moaned, begging for release before she blew up too big.  No!  She interrupted herself, changing her mind and begging to be held down to enjoy my swelling snugness, knowing that such kindness would only deny her the final prize she was already headed for.  Regardless of what she begged for, her buoyancy continued to increase, causing her pleasure center to pull upward on my nozzle with growing urgency.  The demoness laughed openly at her incoherent pleading.  “Your fate is sealed now, my dear -- we must let nature take its course.  I hope you’re ready for a flight of fancy!” she cackled.

I began to lift clear of the grass, pulled upward by her buoyancy, our crotches locked together by my ballooning phallus.  The sensation of lift was too much for me; I held back as long as possible, but could not stop the inevitable.  As the tightness in my balloon-nozzle grew to overwhelming, my cork popped, ricocheting wildly inside her.  The high pressure gas built up in my magnificently ballooned manhood finally had an escape route.  Driven by a singular purpose, it blew out the tip of my nozzle in a torrential whooshing release, expanding as it left me, adding even more volume and lift to my inflated partner.  As my deflating cock-balloon returned to its usual size, my now helplessly overinflated partner slid free with a surprised, ecstatic cry that dopplered with the dramatic acceleration of her ascent.

My valve was twisted closed.  The demoness stared up at the rapidly receding figure. “Fucking amateurs.  Always think they’ll have the last laugh.”  I wondered what she would have done to me if she could have heard my silent laughter.  It couldn’t possibly have been any more wonderful than what she’d already wrought upon me.

Minutes later, an explosion echoed from on high, muffled only by the great distance the demoness’s latest victim had traveled in her ecstatic ascent.